


The Shadow of Perfection

by WitchoftheWaste



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drunken Confessions, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchoftheWaste/pseuds/WitchoftheWaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cassandra drunkenly stumbles into Leliana's bedroom in the middle of the night, well hidden feelings become much less secret, and everything turns out to be hideously complex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isyche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isyche/gifts).



> This is dedicated to the amazing isyche, who inspired me to actually get my act together and write this fic that I had lying around in my head, with her fantastic work, Transfigurations 12:1.
> 
> WARNING: This fic does have a character who is seriously under the influence of alcohol. This person does not have an alcohol problem, but it still might serve as a trigger, and is consequently worth mentioning.
> 
> This is unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own; characters belong to Bioware, not to me.

Cassandra was very rarely drunk. She liked to have her wits about her, to keep her mind sharp.  The Seekers had not advocated heavy drinking either; she had been taught it distracted from Andraste's path.

And yet, one small glass of cider at the Herald's Rest had managed to become two bottles of Antivan wine. She did not even like Antivan wine that much, but somehow she had made her way through more than she had ever drunk before.

Embarrassing as Cassandra found the memories of her past drunken exploits, however few and far between they might be, she probably could have conveniently forgotten about a large part of this new one, except for the fact that her feet had stumblingly carried her to Leliana's door. In the middle of the night.

Leliana... She was the real reason that Cassandra had been drinking in the first place. Alcohol numbed the memory of Leliana's smile, the gleeful lilt to her voice when mocking Commander Cullen or the wistful sweetness that crept into her tone when she spoke of shoes. Cassandra would love to hear Leliana read poetry. She could probably sell tickets for extortionate prices and raise money for the Inquisition, with that beautiful accented voice of hers.

As Cassandra walked in a completely sober manner - she did not stagger at all, no, she did not - up the stairs of one of Skyhold's many towers, she wondered for what must have been the four hundred and thirty first time why she was plagued by these thoughts about Leliana of all people. She loved the Game, which Cassandra despised. She preferred to send sneaky assassins rather than honourable soldiers. She had what might be viewed as dangerously lax views on the Circles of Magi. But Leliana also had an impish smile, and was one of the few people who could make Cassandra actually laugh, a proper throaty laugh, rather than a forced, uncomfortable one. And she was so _tragic,_ so completely and utterly tragic that sometimes it hurt Cassandra even to look at her. She wanted to fix that, to make her smile, to make her laugh. A sudden image of herself and Leliana praying together in Skyhold's chapel invaded her mind, and she had to push it away forcefully, rather than wallowing in its sweetness. Thoughts like this of Leliana were a horrible piece of self indulgence, like cookies and chocolate, delicious but unfairly unhealthy. But she could not stop herself. For all her Seeker training, Cassandra knew she was not actually very good at withholding guilty pleasures from herself.

Cassandra glared at the door in front of her. It seemed to be rising up towards her, and the corridor was spinning, but she made a valiant effort and knocked on it.

\--------------------

Leliana had always been a light sleeper, so when she was rudely awakened by uneven knocks on her door, she woke instantly, and did not even take a second to rub sleep from her eyes. She reached under her pillow for her favourite dagger, and pulled on one of her many embroidered silk dressing gowns. One had to dress well, even for assassins.

She opened the door slowly, standing to the side so as to strike at whatever clumsy fool had been sent to kill her, but instead found her arms full of Cassandra. She must have literally fallen through the doorway, because she collapsed completely onto Leliana, knocking them both over. The dagger slipped out of her grasp, and Leliana found them pressed tightly together. Her mind went to all the wrong places, as she became hyper aware of the gaps where her dressing gown had fallen open and she could feel the rough linen of Cassandra's shirt against her bare skin. She could smell the faint scent of coffee coming from Cassandra's hair, and hear her uneven breaths in her ear. She could also smell the overwhelming stench of alcohol, and it was that aroma that brought her back to her senses.

She scrambled up, pushing Cassandra off her, and carefully straightening her dressing gown. Cassandra slowly, and disturbingly clumsily, rose to her feet, and Leliana felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She squashed it firmly. She was not unused, after all, to putting _feelings_ away for later, for cold nights and starlit dreams. She would not think about it now. Later, when this fresh difficulty was over, she might take the memory out, like a well worn letter, and admire it, but now there was no need to dwell on the matter.

'Cassandra, what have you been doing? You smell like a wine cellar.'

'Had jush a leetle bish too much to drink,' Cassandra answered, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. 'But I am not drunk!' She fell forward again, leaving Leliana no choice but to catch her. All this proximity was not exactly unwelcome, but it was certainly unhelpful, so she righted Cassandra much more quickly than before, not allowing herself even a second to savour the moment.

'You're very sweet, you know,' Cassandra said, looking at her very earnestly. 'Like your voice. You have sush,' she started slurring again, 'sush a lovely voish. Could lishen to you all day. Well, maybe not _all_ day... But we could do other things, nice things.' She giggled.

Leliana was torn between complete and utter horror and the strong desire to coo over the adorableness of an inebriated Cassandra. She had never seen her act like this before. There had even been a time in her life where she had believed that the day Cassandra giggled was the day the world would end. The discomfort of trying to manage a giggling Cassandra was magnified tenfold by the fact that the impossible woman was complimenting her, and appeared to even be flirting with her.

Before Leliana could say anything, Cassandra walked - or rather, lurched - right up to her, and wrapped her arms around Leliana's neck. Leliana's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms. Don't think about it, she told herself. Cassandra was drunk; she could not be held responsible for her actions.

But then Cassandra gave her a little half smile, and, sweet Maker, Leliana had to close her eyes to block out the painful beauty of it. It was better with her eyes closed. She could smell the alcohol so strongly; it was a constant reminder of how she must behave, of how none of this was real. But she could also feel Cassandra's hands tangling in her hair and she tried so hard not to gasp in pleasure, but-

'Words...' Cassandra was muttering, her face buried in Leliana's neck now. 'They slip through my hands. That sounds good. I think I read it in a book once.' Leliana could feel Cassandra's smile, rather than see it. 'I don't know how to talk, how to tell you,' Cassandra continued, and Leliana almost opened her eyes because she sounded more sober now. 'Dance with me?'

And before Leliana could even reply properly, Cassandra had begun a waltz step. Her hand on Leliana's waist was warm and firm, but her feet were stumbling and they swayed awkwardly together; Cassandra was clearly used to leading.

Cassandra trod on her foot, and Leliana wanted to laugh at the pain and ridiculousness of it all. She was humming something under her breath that Leliana couldn't hear properly. Cassandra waltzed a little faster here, a little slower there, and Leliana couldn't quite bring herself to stop herself from staggering after, tripping on the hem of her dressing gown. It hurt when Cassandra laughed into her hair, it hurt when she rested her head on Leliana's shoulder. Everything hurt, but she couldn't stop.

'Has anyone ever told you,' Cassandra said, 'that you look beautiful in the moonlight, with your hair all messy?'

Leliana forced herself to keep her tone light. 'Well, you just did.'

Cassandra stopped dancing, and pulled Leliana closer, and Leliana could not breathe and there was a fluttering in her stomach that she hadn't felt in years, and it was so damn unfair. She had never imagined that she would be in a position where it was so necessary for her to be honourable, and yet here she was, trying not to notice where the laces on Cassandra's simple shirt were loose, or where the ends of her hair brushed her neck.

Cassandra leaned forward and whispered, right in Leliana's ear, 'There's something - something I've been thinking about doing.'

Leliana thanked the Maker that Cassandra was still swaying slightly; she needed every reminder possible that Cassandra was not in her right mind. But it seemed horribly real as Cassandra traced Leliana's mouth with her fingertips, and Leliana could not help but lean into the touch.

And then Cassandra's fingers went to her chin, and she held it firmly, so firmly that Leliana imagined she was going to leave red marks, before every thought went out of her head, and Cassandra kissed her.

As was to be expected, Cassandra tasted like wine, but her lips were so unbelievably soft, and there was something beneath the wine that tasted like the air after a rainfall, which Leliana savoured and stored up for later recollection. The kiss started shy and unsure, their mouths fitting together awkwardly, but when neither of them pulled away, Cassandra's kisses became sloppy with desire.

Cassandra's hands seemed to be everywhere. There was one on her shoulder, or maybe it was her arm? There was one on her waist, or was it her hip? One on her neck or was it in her hair? She had lost all sense of anything except the rushing of blood in her ears and the feel of Cassandra's mouth on hers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice was saying, 'Stop this. Put that hand back. Take your mouth away right now. No, don't use tongue!' But she needed just a little longer, just one more kiss, just one more touch.

Until Cassandra tipped them onto the bed with another one of those terrifying giggles. Then Leliana became very aware of everything very fast, and a deep cold anxiety settled in her stomach and she found herself inelegantly rolling away.

'Stop it,' she said, her voice hoarse and angry. 'You're drunk and I'm tired, and I can't do this.'

Cassandra just sat there, staring at her. Leliana had never seen her look so lost, so completely forlorn, and it made her want to scream at herself for causing it, and to cry out to the Maker for letting this happen. She looked down at her hands, and found she had knotted them so tightly in the sheets that they had gone numb, and she could not feel her fingers. That was good. No feelings, no thoughts, nothing to ruin her judgement.

'You should go,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

And Cassandra was still just sitting there. She seemed almost sober now; she was already beginning to frown, and Leliana could almost _feel_ Cassandra berating herself. Cold, cold, colder, she repeated in her head. Don't look at her, don't think about her. Cold, cold, _colder_.

'I'm sorry.' Leliana looked up, and she thought for a second she saw tears in Cassandra's eyes, but Cassandra kept talking. 'I promise this will never happen again. I don't know what I was thinking.' She swallowed, and Leliana tried so hard not to watch the line of her throat - 'But, since I seem to be drunk...' There was a long pause. 'Can I - Can I stay the night?' She said it all very fast, but Leliana still felt a stab of pain in her chest as Cassandra's voice broke with emotion.

'I swear, I'll be no bother. I'll sleep on the floor or anything, but I shouldn't wander around Skyhold at this time of night. There'll be gossip. Twelve people might see me walking across the courtyard.' Cassandra said all of this even faster, the words running together like wet ink, but Leliana barely noticed. She was trying so hard to persuade herself not to say yes. Don't say it, don't say it. It will be worse if you wait till the morning. Don't put this off; it will hurt more if you do. You have to rip it off like a bandage on a wound that's almost healed. It's better to be quick than slow.

'All right, you can stay.'

It's just one night, she told herself firmly. You won't be doing anything, you won't be saying anything. One night of peace. You deserve that, right? Think of the memories you'll have after this.

Cassandra was smiling softly, and Leliana couldn't breathe. 'Don't sleep on the floor though,' she said, trying not to stare at Cassandra's mouth. 'There's plenty of room for us both on the bed.'

Gingerly, Cassandra took off her boots, and then, after a painful moment of hesitation, curled around Leliana. Leliana took a moment to lean into Cassandra, to feel the softness of her breasts, the puffs of her breath stirring Leliana's hair. My pillows are going to smell like wine and coffee and _Cassandra_ for weeks, she thought hazily.

\--------------------

Cassandra's eyes hurt. And her face hurt. And her head was pounding. Pretty much everything hurt. She made a small angry noise in the back of her throat, and tentatively opened an eye. She shut it again quickly; light was pouring into the room; it hurt to look at.

What had happened? Her head had not hurt this badly in ages, or at least, not since the last demon she had fought had wacked her over the head. With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she tried to take in her surroundings. She was still wearing all of her clothing; the sheets underneath her felt soft and smooth, like satin or silk; she could feel a suspicious warmth against her back, a slight sound of breathing, a pressure on her waist, and... Was someone nuzzling her neck? A slow, creeping wave of dread spread over her. She remembered. Maker's breath, _she remembered!_

Cassandra sat up with a gasp, and cried, 'Oh, _fuck._ ' It helped, so she said it again, 'Fuck. Fuck. What was I thinking? Shit. Balls. Damn it.'

She rubbed her eyes furiously, her fingernails pulling at the skin around her eyes. I'm never drinking again, she thought angrily. It was the alcohol. Regrettable, but perfectly understandable. Such a thing would never happen again, of course, but it wasn't like she had wanted to do that for weeks, for months, maybe even for years. No, she had not wanted to. Absolutely not. It was a spur of the moment, last minute, wine influenced decision.

She heard a noise from behind her, a little sound of perfect contentment, and she looked around. Leliana was snuggling into the pillow Cassandra had slept on, and the small smile on her face was heartbreaking _._ Instinctively, she leant round and brushed a lock of hair out of Leliana's eyes. But as Leliana stirred, she snatched her hand back. She could not do that now. She had no excuse. Cassandra felt an agony in her chest that she longed to tear out and fling away, but the ache was inside her and impossible to remove.  

She felt completely alone in her misery. Leliana looked so peaceful, her hair moving as she breathed; undoubtedly, she saw it as nothing more than an amusing intrigue, a funny story to be told at the war room. And there was not a single person Skyhold who Cassandra could confide in. She was utterly on her own.

Stop snivelling, she told herself firmly. A sudden, overwhelming desire to hit something or someone till her muscles screamed and her arms shook washed over her, and she knew then that she had to leave before Leliana woke. If she left now, she could go out and kill something or even just hit a dummy until she was so tired that she forgot the way Leliana's hands curled while she was asleep or the way she tucked her legs up against herself as she slept or the curve of her breast where her dressing gown had fallen open-

Cassandra shook her head resolutely. Just cut it off, she said to herself, just go. She sat on the edge of her bed, ignoring the screaming pain in her head, and trying hard not to look at all at Leliana. Looking would make it a thousand times harder. She pulled her boots on as quietly as possible, and tightened the drawstring neck of her shirt. But, as she walked with long precise strides towards the door, she could not help but turn back. One last moment wouldn't hurt, would it?

She walked quickly back towards Leliana and dropped a kiss on her head, relishing the feeling of Leliana's hair against her lips. Leliana smelt like lavender and a little like the sea on a stormy day, and Cassandra closed her eyes and tried to commit that scent to memory. She knew she would replay this scene in her head for weeks to come. Then, quickly and silently, she left.

\--------------------

Leliana woke up shivering. She had slept outside the blankets, and the fire in her room had long since died down. She wrapped her arms around herself and curled up so that her face touched her knees. Had last night been a dream? It would not have been the first time she had dreamed so vividly that the vision lingered around her long after she awoke.  

She sat up, and wrapped the blanket around herself. There were two imprints on the pillows - from two different heads. There was a slight scent of wine. Her dagger was lost somewhere on the floor over by the door. It had been real.

Leliana hung her head.  ' _I_ _knew then, And cross'd my heart with shame_ ,' she whispered. The words from the Chant of Light seemed so appropriate; the gates to happiness or Cassandra's heart or whatever it is she was looking for _were_ forever shut. She knew she had lost something precious, but she could not quite understand what, only the sense of defeat and loneliness that spread over her.

What had she imagined exactly? That Cassandra would wake up, and like some Orlesian stage dancer, take Leliana into her arms and spin her around and around until she was dizzy with laughter and love? Of course not! She just... hadn't expected Cassandra to leave without saying goodbye.

She reached for one of the pillows, and allowed herself a moment to remember the previous night. Then she flung it away from her, and got up. She was probably late for something already.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to make the Inquisitor gender and race neutral here, so that you can imagine your own 'Quis in this role. Also, I've tried really hard to get the wound in this chapter accurate, but don't expect the most correct thing ever, because I know nothing about medicine and biology.
> 
> As always, this fic is unbeta'd so any mistakes are completely my own. Thanks to all my friends for putting up with me going on and on about this chapter and how tough it was to write wounds.

If Cassandra had thought about it for more than half a second, she would have realised that charging at a giant with absolutely no magical or ranged back up was probably not one of the best ideas she had ever had. But she did not think about it. Charging at something had been her goal in asking the Inquisitor to bring her to the Emerald Graves. A giant was far better than one measly outlaw, who she could defeat in a matter of seconds. If she was lucky, the giant would conk her on the head and she would lose all her memory. That would help a lot.

It had been three days since she had woken up in Leliana's bed. Three days of hitting things in the rain during the day and covering her head with a pillow at night in a futile attempt to block out the memory of Leliana's shining eyes. She had avoided Leliana sedulously, and it seemed that Leliana was attempting to escape her as well, for they had not exchanged even so much as a 'Please pass the salt'. Cassandra was ashamed to say this upset her even more. It wasn't that she had _thought_ Leliana would come to her and profess her undying love, maybe with a bouquet of flowers, and she would rest her head in Leliana's lap and - No, she had not expected that. But it would have been nice.

The thought made her grip her sword tighter, and she put all her strength into her next blow to the giant's leg. Over and over, she slashed at the leg, stabbing and bashing, ignoring every sound around her, barely noticing and evading the giant's strikes. Her attacks became more clumsy, her dodges slower, and her arm shook with the weight of her shield. Cassandra had great physical endurance; she knew this, as simply as she knew that the sky was blue, but she was deliberately wearing herself out now. A destructive, all-consuming need to destroy herself, and everything else, had taken over her.

And so Cassandra did not notice when the giant picked up a rock, she did not notice as he started to bring it down on her, until the Inquisitor _screamed_ her name, and she looked up, but it was too late, and she could see the smooth surface of the boulder coming closer and closer, and she threw herself out of the way, but it wasn't far enough, and she heard the sickening screech of armour ripping. And then blackness.

\--------------------

Leliana heard about Cassandra approximately two hours after she was hurt; it was her job, after all, to know everyone's business almost before they did. Something inside her crumpled when one of her scouts brought the news, and she barely managed to keep up an air of calmness as she dismissed the young woman.

She leant against the wall, feeling the cold stone against her cheek, trying to _force_ the cries of her birds to calm her, but a storm of emotion was sweeping within her. Cassandra was hurt, perhaps she would die, and Leliana knew this was no one's fault but her own. She must have upset and offended her so much that night that she was still thinking about it. How could she have been so thoughtless, letting Cassandra kiss her like that? She had probably been so disgusted by the memory that she had left herself open. No... That could not be it. Cassandra was the best fighter there was. But somehow, Leliana was sure she was to blame. Somehow she had been the cause of this.

Leliana _knew_ that she must go and fix this; she must heal Cassandra, if that was possible, and if she had to bury her, she would do that instead. The very thought made her feel sick, but it did not dampen her resolution.

She sighed, and kicked the wall, her boot toe making a dull thump on the stone. When had she become so weak, so vulnerable? Cassandra had a fantastic power over her that she could not control. She was blinded by her feelings, she was ready to throw over her work, just to nurse someone who was probably better off in the hands of the healers anyway. And she knew all of this was a problem, a huge insurmountable problem. She was sure of it, sure that she found it uncomfortable even, but she could not stop herself.

Leliana blocked this thought from her mind as she made the necessary arrangements to leave Skyhold. She even managed to fool herself into thinking that she was shivering because it was cold, as she got onto her horse.

\--------------------

By the time Leliana arrived at the camp in the Emerald Graves, her horse was foaming a little at the mouth, and she was so weary that she thought she might collapse the moment she dismounted. Through sheer strength of will, and the ever helpful thought 'What would Andraste do?', she managed to listen to the closest scout's report, and find the tent Cassandra was in.

The moment she entered the tent, Leliana was horrified by the overpowering coppery stench of blood. A harried looking young woman was putting something in a bowl, leaning over an unconscious body that Leliana realised with another stab of nausea must be Cassandra. As she moved around the tent, the woman she assumed was a healer did not look up, but continued with her task. She was removing pieces of shattered rock from... Cassandra's side. Each piece glistened with blood, and Leliana tried to remain impassive, tried to look away, but she was hypnotised by the horrible, heart breaking sight of Cassandra's wound.

The edges were jagged, flaps of skin going every which way, and there was dried blood everywhere, fresh blood coming up in even more places. No attempt had been made to use elfroot or even spindleweed, the healing herb peasants used, and although there seemed no signs of infection yet, Cassandra was coated with the sheen of sweat.

Leliana closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm herself, but another wave of queasiness swept over her, and she felt a telltale tightness in her throat. She ran to the flap of the tent, and emptied the contents of her stomach on a clump of grass. She had not eaten for half a day, and the dry heaving burned almost as much as the tears that ran down her cheeks.

She cleaned herself up with a water flask, and took a deep breath before re-entering the tent. _'For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light,_ ' she muttered. ' _And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost._ '

She would be stronger this time.

She went up to the healer, who seemed to be ignoring her again. And Leliana, who was so clever with her tongue, who could always find a way through secrets and assassins, who was the mysterious and threatening Sister Nightingale, said simply, 'What can I do to help?'

\--------------------

Time passed, whether it was hours or minutes, Leliana did not know. Her hands were slick with blood as she grasped the iron tweezers, and pulled out yet another piece of what had been Cassandra's shirt, now unrecognizable and black with blood. She had been taking out chips of one of Cassandra's ribs, sharp splinters of rock, jagged pieces of shredded metal from Cassandra's breastplate - anything that might get stuck in the wound and cause infection. She did not speak, she tried not to think about the wound except in technical terms; slightly damaged liver, broken ribs, hurry, hurry, hurry... Why wouldn't it stop bleeding? Why was there so much blood?

Her hands were shaking and her movements were becoming more awkward. She swallowed hard and kept going, ignoring the way her eyes kept closing, and it was harder and harder to reopen them.

At length, the Inquisitor came in and gave Leliana a look of surprise, and then one of pity and mild understanding, that made Leliana shake with irritation at herself for being so obvious. The Inquisitor did try to force her to sleep, which led to some tired shouting, but she eventually found herself curled up on a chair next to the makeshift bed Cassandra was lying on, her head resting on the mattress, and her hand covering Cassandra's own.

\--------------------

She woke to a muffled gasp and a curse in a voice that could only be Cassandra's, and Leliana raised her head so fast that her vision swam and her head spun. The first thing she checked for was the wound. It had been bound tightly, and from the smell, Leliana could guess that the healer had finally applied the necessary elfroot poultice.

Leliana was aching all over, her shoulder wrenched from her strange sleeping position, and her cheek sore from the rough fabric of the bed.

Looking at Cassandra's face was harder than anything she had done in a long time, so she steeled herself and did it quickly. Cassandra was staring at her with a puzzled, almost hurt look on her face.

'What are you doing here?'

Leliana winced. She should have been more sensible. How could she expect Cassandra not to question her presence after her stupidity before? What could she say now? 'I'm sorry, but I'm kind of a bit in love with you; I can't believe I almost lost you, and to be honest, I can't believe I even feel this way,'? Of course not. Cassandra would run a mile and a half if she said that.

Leliana tried for a comforting smile. 'I heard you were wounded, and it sounded pretty bad. I think I should sometimes be allowed to come down to see how things are outside of Skyhold, no?' Damn it. Her voiced had cracked a little on the word 'wounded'. She dug her nails into her palms in annoyance.

Cassandra frowned. 'I suppose...'

'Look, I think you should know that, as your...' What was she? Cassandra's advisor? Her friend? '- As your colleague, I don't think you should throw yourself in harm's way like you clearly did here. Bravery is one thing, but stupidity is another.'

'Stupidity?' Cassandra raised herself onto one elbow, with a slight wince. Leliana resisted the urge to push her back down. 'It's my job!'

'Your job is not to get yourself killed,' Leliana said, her voice rising. 'How could you do such a thing? _And for Andraste's sake would you lie down properly!_ Anyone can see it's hurting you.'

To Leliana's surprise, Cassandra lay down again instantly, a guilty look on her face.

In a more soft tone, Leliana continued, 'Can't you see that the Inquisition needs you?' She picked at the bedclothes and looked fixedly at her hand. ' _I_ need you.'

If anything, Cassandra's voice got angrier, and she sat up again. ' _You_ need me?' She made a disgusted noise. 'Is that why you came here? To play your strange games with me?' Her voice cracked, and Leliana wanted to scream ' _no'_ a thousand times and take Cassandra in her arms, but instead she just sat there, not even looking at her, because she knew that if she did then she would cry.

Cassandra continued, slightly more quietly. 'Look, I'm sorry about the other night, but you should have known that when someone is-' she paused, '-drunk, then they are not in proper control of their faculties, and frankly I think it deeply unfair that you to keep making jokes at my expense about it.'

Leliana gasped. Surprise outweighed caution, and she took Cassandra's face in her hands, her thumb brushing against the scar on her jaw and said gently,  'I am not making jokes about how I feel. ' Doubt returned, crawling over her skin, and her hands dropped from Cassandra's face and she continued, 'If you don't feel the same, that's fine, believe me I would understand, and it would not make things awkward at all; you could just forget about everything. Of course, I won't mention it again; I mean, it was silly of me to think-'

She was cut off by Cassandra kissing her, and it was desperate and consuming and _angry._ And Leliana's arms went around her neck of their own accord, and she wriggled closer to Cassandra until they weren't just touching at the mouth, but from breast to waist too. She heard Cassandra gasp against her lips, and then they weren't kissing anymore, but Cassandra's mouth was on her neck, and she threw her head back breathlessly.

Cassandra wore armour for all to see; Leliana's was invisible. And yet, she could feel Cassadra chipping at it and peeling it away, leaving her not naked and vulnerable, but free and unconstrained.

And then her hands were in Cassandra's hair, and she was kissing her again, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, but Cassandra was pulling her down on top of her, and Leliana just managed to catch herself, and pulled away.

They stared at each other, panting. Finally, Cassandra grinned, and put a hand against her side. 'Much as I love the idea of you kissing me better, I don't think that was very good for my ribs.'

Leliana smiled back. 'Perhaps we should count ourselves lucky, instead, that the healer is not here right now.'

'Perhaps we should.' From where she was lying, Cassandra gave her an autocratic look. 'Now come here beside me; there's plenty of room. No, it won't hurt, don't be silly.'

Leliana lay down beside her, snuggling into her neck.

They _were_ left and right hands, she reflected. Thinking about it, she was alarmed to discover that, despite their differences, she did not know where Cassandra ended and she began.

She whispered, her voice barely there, against Cassandra's skin, 'You know, I think I'm falling in love with you.'

Leliana must not have been as quiet as she thought, because Cassandra replied, 'Good. I'd hate to be the only one.'

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic comes from The Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare. This is the full speech:
> 
> 'And why not death rather than living torment?  
> To die is to be banish'd from myself;  
> And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her  
> Is self from self: a deadly banishment!  
> What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?  
> What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?  
> Unless it be to think that she is by  
> And feed upon the shadow of perfection  
> Except I be by Silvia in the night,  
> There is no music in the nightingale;  
> Unless I look on Silvia in the day,  
> There is no day for me to look upon;  
> She is my essence, and I leave to be,  
> If I be not by her fair influence  
> Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.  
> I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:  
> Tarry I here, I but attend on death:  
> But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.'
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated.


End file.
